Into the Valley of the Dead
by Runt Thunderbelch
Summary: The Scorpion King story told from the perspective of a Red Guard who survived the fight in the Valley of the Dead.
1. Chapter 1: The Harem

Disclaimer: This is a non-revenue-making work of fan fiction. I make no claim on the rights to the movie Scorpion King or to any of its characters.

Into the Valley of the Dead

Chapter 1: The Harem

Thorak, captain of the Red Guards, lead twelve of us into the Valley of the Dead in pursuit of the Akkadian assassin, Mathayus. I was the only pursuer who survived. Yes, I was there-that I swear! And yes, I lived!

Okay, this will take some explaining.

Let's see. I first encountered Mathayus when we Red Guards responded to cries of alarm from Memnon's harem. Red Guards Tahnn and Lemo managed to burst through the doors just ahead of me and Uncle Thorak. I could hear scores of Red Guards racing up to reinforce us.

Concubines were screaming. Eunuchs were scattered all over the floor, their crimson blood gushing in rivers. Mathayus stood like a titan amidst this chaos, a bloodied scimitar in one hand and Pheon, the last remaining eunuch, hanging desperately onto his back.

Uncle Thorak pointed his sword. "Kill him!"

Our short bows came up, our arrows flew, but the Akkadian spun around, and poor Pheon took the arrows in his back. He went limp and slid to the ground. I cursed. He owed me 900 shekels.

As we notched more arrows, Mathayus ducked behind the ceremonial gong on the far side of the harem and slashed the ropes which suspended it. Our next flight of arrows bounced harmlessly off the huge metal disk as the Akkadian rolled it across the floor.

He was hiding behind it, and the fleeing concubines who ran between us and him didn't help matters much.

More Red Guards came up. More arrows flew. More concubines screamed. But Mathayus managed to crash the gong through twin doors and flee into the corridor beyond.

We Red Guards were right after him, throwing down our bows and drawing our swords. We clattered into the corridor, racing like the wind. We were gaining on him.

His huge gong splintered another set of twin doors on the far end of the corridor, shattered a brick wall on the edge of a balcony, and fell into nothingness. Mathayus's momentum took him over the edge along with it.

We didn't stop running though, and in a heartbeat, I was glad of it. I saw his head bob up and look back at us. That piece of camel dung had managed to grab the edge and to hold on. But how long could he maintain his grip once Gomorrahian steel began piercing his flesh? I grinned.

When we got there, Mathayus was already plummeting.

Enraged, Uncle Thorak grabbed the backs of the necks of Tahnn and Lemo, bellowed, "Go get him!" and shoved them over the side as well. Sometimes, my Uncle Thorak can be a little harsh.

"He's in the sorceress's quarters!" snarled Thorak. "Come on!" He led a charge back the way we'd come.

But I didn't go. The death of Tahnn and Lemo had taken the tuck right out of me. Let the others chase the Akkadian. I came back up the corridor very slowly and back into the carnage of the harem. There was so much blood, and so much death. Poor, poor Pheon. And alas, my 900 shekels.

A concubine was standing nearby, weeping uncontrollably. My heart went out to her. I held open my arm and, childlike, she crept into my embrace to cry some more upon my shoulder.

And suddenly two more were there, holding on to me. One was sobbing softly. The other was fighting back tears.

"Thank you for saving us," one whimpered.

"Yes, thank you."

"Oh," I shrugged magnanimously, "I was just doing my job."

They smelled wonderful. One wore jasmine perfume, one had on rosewater, and the third wore lavender. And if you think my nose was having a good time, my arms, palms and the parts of me they were pressing against were in Seventh Heaven!

"If you come back this evening," murmured the one with jasmine, "I will thank you in a way that you'll remember for all eternity. I promise."

"Lilah!" squeaked the one wearing lavender.

"Well, when was the last time Memnon visited us?" Lilah retorted. "Human flesh needs company, and this one is handsome, and the gods knows he's earned it."

"But still—"

"And after she thanks you, I'd like to thank you as well," said the one wearing rosewater.

"You too?" snapped the lavender one.

Lilah pointed a distaining finger at her detractor. "Take her last. She's a grump."

This was good. This was very good. You see, at this early point of my life, I would need a, uh, a certain amount of instruction. And my guess was these three were just the ones who could educate me.

Unfortunately, my night of passion was not to be. The Fates decreed I be ordered to accompany Uncle Thorak into the Valley of the Dead. Remember the Valley of the Dead? This is a story about me in the Valley of the Dead.


	2. Chapter 2: A Clue from the Gods

Chapter 2: A Clue from the Gods

King Memnon was toying with his live scorpions.

Although my uncle had ordered me to accompany him to the throne room, I had stationed myself as near as humanly possible to the entry way in case we had to run for it. There was a mirror next to the entry, and so I was studying my reflection in it, trying to figure what could have possible led Lilah to conclude I was handsome. Memnon must have not visited her in a really long time.

Thorak duly reported that the Akkadian had successfully abducted the sorceress from the palace and had somehow gotten her out of the city.

To my great surprise, Memnon took the news with an almost supernatural calm. "Take a dozen of your best men," he said, "track him down, kill him, and bring her back to me." Memnon issued a few more instructions, had a peregrine delivered unto Thorak and then handed him a scorpion-poisoned arrow. "When you find the Akkadian, give him this for me."

We left.

As the two of us headed for the barracks, Thorak said, "Get me Cis's squad, sweeten it with D'brakon and Yaff, and I want you to come along too."

"But why me, uncle?" I protested. "Memnon said a dozen of your best men."

"Hang back near the rear," he replied. "Try not to get killed. Don't embarrass the family."

Yes, I was a member of the Red Guard, and yes, the Red Guard was Memnon's elite fighting unit. But I only got in because of my uncle's influence. I had neither the desire nor the talent to be a warrior. Indeed, I only wanted to be a sorcerer. And I wasn't even any good at that.

We rode out of Gomorrah and, for most of the afternoon, we tracked the Akkadian across the soft dust of the desert. As we rode along, there was plenty of time for me to count noses. Thorak and twelve men. Thirteen pursuers. I cringed. Thirteen was an ill-fated number. So I was not surprised that, as the sun reddened and descended towards the western horizon, we lost Mathayus's trail when it crossed a rambling patch of exposed bedrock.

It made no sense to trying to find his trail again in the dark. We made camp. Sentries were posted, dinner was cooked and eaten, bedrolls were prepared, and I sat by a campfire, rolling bones. I do that when I'm nervous. I would place a half dozen of them into a cup, shake it, and then scatter the bones across the ground. The gods guided how they fell, and anyone trained in the mystical arts can usually discern what the pantheon is saying.

"Why don't you ask them where the Akkadian has gone?"

I turned to find my uncle looming over me. I lacked the courage to tell him that I had already done that. Twice. And had received the same answer from the bones both time. I placed the bones back into the cup and rolled them a third time. Once again, the pattern of the bones gave the answer which I really didn't like.

"The Valley of the Dead," I told him.

He stiffened. Then gave a curt nod and strode off into the darkness.

I looked again at the bones. This time they said more than just "the Valley of the Dead." This time the gods had made a pun. They had used the near-future form of the word "Dead." They were telling me that, soon, a whole lot of people would die there.

Somewhere out in the night, a hyena laughed.


	3. Chapter 3: The Breath of Seth

Chapter 3: The Breath of Seth

The next morning, we rode in the direction of the Valley of the Dead. We quickly found Mathayus's trail, and I was given a grudging acknowledgment by Thorak. See, my sorcery did count for something.

The Akkadian was now proceeding boldly, not even bothering to hide his tracks. He had taken a path up over a rocky ridgeline, the crest of which bore three tall, spindling, wooden shambles. Woven into each, were bits of cloth, strings, slivers of bones, ribcages and a skull or two. These constructs were designed to capture any souls of the dead who tried to return to the world of the living. Each shamble was turning gently in the wind. -Except this morning, there was no wind. The air was still, flat and dead. I realized with a sinking certainty that what I was witnessing were ghosts struggling to make their way passed the shambles, out of the Valley of the Dead, and back to Gomorrah.

Uncle Thorak led the way passed the twisting shambles as if they were nothing more than sticks and strings. The other men followed without question. I too went, completing out our full complement of thirteen.

We were riding across a dry lake bed when I spotted him. Mathayus was atop a white camel and was galloping full tilt towards us.

I gasped, "He's attacking!"

"The sun has fried his brain," muttered Uncle Thorak. He drew his battle axe from the scabbard on his back. "A thousand duanas to the one who brings me his head."

As we charged, our line across stretched out even more. The men in the center would stop the Akkadian's charge, and we on the ends would ride around, come up behind and put a quick end to him.

Our swords were out. Our horses were at a gallop. We outnumbered our sun-crazed enemy thirteen-to-one. Victory was assured.

Then the top of the dune behind Mathayus exploded. A cloud of sand blown by the divine lips of the Seth himself fell upon us, blinding us. Our screaming horses reared in panic. The Akkadian was there among us, swinging that horrible scimitar of his, mowing us down like wheat.

We knew we were easy targets atop our horses, so we leapt to the ground, our blades ready to finish Mathayus as soon as he showed himself.

"Where is he?" cried a sand-blinded Red Guard.

A terrified shout revealed the general direction. We rushed to the aid of our companion, only to find him without a head.

The wind howled like a harvester of souls. Our horses whinnied, snorted and fled. We Red Guards gathered into a tight group, backs to the center, each man peering out into the storm, looking for the assassin.

"This way!" Uncle Thorak cried suddenly. He'd spotted an opening in the rocks, which led underground. We hurried towards the ominous opening. Thorak stopped, grabbed the two nearest men and pushed them forward. "You go first!"


	4. Chapter 4: Caves of the Whispering Sand

Chapter 4: Caves of the Whispering Sand

We gathered just inside the entrance. The bottom of the small cave was covered in a fine, white sand with melon-sized, flat rocks interspersed around the periphery. More powdery sand drifted down from a hole in the roof.

Our senses were more alert than a sunburnt cat's. This had to be an ambush.

One of our point men spotted a fleeting shadow and went after it. With a quick shriek, he disappeared down into the sand. We froze. As children, we'd all heard of lightning sand, but no one had actually seen it before. Wasn't it just a story to frighten little kids with? This couldn't be real!

Cis looked back and Thorak in horror, and then he bravely took the next step. He shouted as the sand gulped him down.

Uncle Thorak went next. He slammed his foot down on one of the rocks. It held. He snarled back to us, "Stay on the stones!" He went forward resolutely. We followed him, moving from stone to stone as if we were crossing a stream.

We passed what can only be a sandfall. Sand poured from near the ceiling and plunged into the all-consuming sand of the floor. The last Red Guard was suddenly grabbed by powerful arms and was dragged back into it. His stifled shout brought the next nearest man. This man's sword slashed through the sandfall again and again. Then he was seized by the ankles and was dragged screaming in to meet his death.

We had turned, but there was no time for us to help.

And so it went. Deeper and deeper into the caves we went. And, as we went, Mathayus snatched us away one by one. A quick scream here, a shout of pain there, and always with such dazzling speed that we could do nothing to aid the victim. I realized then there was a deadly difference between the training of the Red Guards and the training of Akkadians. We had been trained for battle; Akkadians had been trained for killing. And this was no battle. This was a serial execution.

A few of us somehow reached the innermost cave. This chamber had several holes in the ceiling, each letting in eerie light and drifting sand.

It was just beyond the final shaft of light that I spotted it. Half hidden in the shadows, was Mathayus scimitar. Thank the gods for this chance to pull the beast's teeth. I reached for it.

Uncle Thorak growled a warning, but it came too late.

A noose tightened on my ankle and, screaming, I was upended and dragged mercilessly up through a hole in the ceiling.


	5. Chapter 5: Entombed

Chapter 5: Entombed

So there I was, surprisingly still alive, hanging upside down by one foot, completely helpless, and highly embarrassed. I was in some kind of rocky, vertical tube. A weak light filtered down from above. Ethereal sand filtered over me and then drifted into the chamber below. The rope that held me disappeared up around the top edge of the tube. And that was about all that I could see.

From below, came the sounds of death scream after death scream and of corpse after corpse falling to the sandy floor. After awhile, there was running and then nothing.

I could have shouted for help, but what if only Mathayus remained? How much longer would I live if he discovered me? So I waited, and waited, and waited. The silence was like that of a tomb.

After awhile, I tried to climb up my body to untie the rope around my ankle, but my armor made me too stiff around the middle, and there was little maneuvering room in the tube. I tried swinging back and forth like a pendulum, but I only succeeded in smacking myself on the rocky sides of the tube as if I were some kind of human bell clapper. I tried squirming my foot around to make it slip out of the noose. But nothing worked.

And so, I waited some more. And waited. And waited.

Finally, I had to pee really bad. I shook and trembled and jiggled, but that really didn't help much. By all the gods I needed to go.

So there was nothing more for it. I screamed, screamed for help. I listened for approaching footsteps. When none were heard, I screamed again. Still nothing. Remember what I said earlier about this place being as quiet as a tomb? Oh yeah.

After another ten agonizing minutes, I tried placing my hands on the rocks on either side of me and pushing myself upwards. I managed to hook the toes of my right foot over a rock and that help me pull myself up more. So, I was climbing up the tube upside down, but at least I was making some progress. With my bladder about to explode, I forced myself up a good three feet. Then I slipped. The force of my fall jerked the rope tight on my foot, but then surprising, I popped free.

I plummeted headfirst down the shaft, smacked my skull hard onto the rocks below, and didn't wake up for a long time.


	6. Chapter 6: Lookie at What I Found!

Chapter 6: Lookie at What I Found!

I know I was unconscious for a long time because, when I awoke, my bladder was no longer full and yet the front of my trousers was dry. So was the blood on my forehead. I wiped away a few excess flakes and winced at the pain. I had a throbbing headache.

The caves now smelled like a charnel house. Corpses and pieces of corpses were scattered throughout. Death is a smelly business.

I picked up a sword, thought better of it, and picked up a second sword. I moved through the caves, looking for survivors. I was not surprised when I failed to find any.

Uncle Thorak's body lay outside, half covered in sand. Looking down at it, I felt as if I should feel more sorrow. But Thorak had been an ill-tempered, ruthless, sadistic, homicidal maniac. The world would be a better place without him.

I was relieved not to find Mathayus. I knew I'd have no chance against him if our paths ever crossed again. I now knew why Akkadians were so feared.

I scraped a shallow depression into the sandy floor of one of the caves, carried all the bodies and body parts to it, removed all the coins and jewels, and then covered my dead compatriots over with sand. As close as I could tell, there were ten Red Guards buried in that shallow grave. That left the two who were swallowed by the lightning sand, plus me. Thirteen in all. I told you, thirteen is an unlucky number.

The hardest task, I had left until now. I went back to the entry of the cave and stared off across the shimmering desert that was the Valley of the Dead. It was a hellish stretch of unforgiving wasteland, designed by the pantheon's most evil gods to be a killing ground for anyone who set foot in it. And I had no option but to try and cross it with no food, no water, and no horse.

A vulture winged lazily across the sky.

Should I pray? And if so, to which god? The gods were a notoriously jealous bunch, and if I prayed to the wrong one, divine retribution would surely fall upon me. Damn polytheism.

The distant whinnying of horses caught my attention. I hurried out into the blazing sunlight and followed the sound. Almost a league away, I found a half dozen Red Guard horses struggling over a cleft in the side of a short palisade. The nose of one would go in, and the rest would struggle to replace it with their own.

I waded into the fray, shouting and slapping the horses away with the flats of my sword. Inside the cleft was a broken-open barrel of oats. And further back, feedbags and more barrels.

I began filling feedbags and putting them on the horses. They were now very happy horses. I noticed the seams on one of the barrels were moist, and I opened it to find it filled with water. Green water, to be sure, but water nonetheless. I drank and then rolled the barrel for the horses. When a horse had eaten its fill, I removed its feedbag so that it could get at the water.

In my next foray into the cleft, I found a small sack which looked as if it contained sugar cubes. Oh, these horses were going to love me! Dinner, drink and now dessert. I opened the bag to find, not sugar cubes, but rather nineteen blood rubies.


	7. Chapter 7: Moment of Triumph

Chapter 7: Moment of Triumph

I arrived back in Gomorrah after nightfall and was astonished to learn that an attack on the palace was in progress. Who would dare?

I galloped forward and rode up behind a company of Red Guards infantry that was reinforcing the plaza just in front of the palace's main entrance. Their eyes were raised high, and so I too looked up.

A man was falling backwards off of the palace's highest rampart. Then, without warning, it was as if all the gods in all the pantheons in all of creation simultaneously lit their own farts. The very air exploded in fire, thunder, terror and Hell. The plummeting body fell through the swirling, climbing inferno and slammed, burning, onto the plaza.

A few Red Guards hurried forward to examine it. One of them cried out, "It's Memnon!" The others nodded. "Memnon! It's Memnon!"

The King was dead? My eyes climbed back to the rampart above. A massive figure of a man holding a giant bow stood way up there, silhouetted in the light of the full moon. He could only be Mathayus. Then a scantily clad, curvaceous female hurried up to wrap her arm around him. She couldn't possibly be Memnon's sorceress, could she? What the heck was going on?

"Hail Mathayus!" someone cried out.

Men all over the plaza began falling to one knee. "Hail Mathayus! Hail Mathayus!" By the Law of the Hoard, the greatest warrior was proclaimed King. "Hail Mathayus!"

Under my breath, I swore, but I could do nothing but to raise my sword in salute. "Hail Mathayus!" I shouted.

Then the full ramifications began to occur to me. If there were no more Memnon, then there was no more Red Guard. I sheathed my sword, snatched off my crimson mantle and threw it away. Thank the gods, I was finally free!

Better than that, with the nineteen blood rubies now dangling in a pouch at my waist plus my newly acquired half dozen horses, I was rich! I was fabulously rich! I laughed. Yes indeed, I was one of the richest men in all Gomorrah!

What a glorious day! "Hail Mathayus!" I cried joyously.

I felt a gentle tug at my waist, and a quick glance showed my gem pouch to be gone. A street urchin held it in his hand, and he was zigzagging away through the crowd.

I cursed all the gods (whose duty it was to protect me), leaped from horse, drew my sword, and lit out after him.

THE END


End file.
